He had one job.
One.
Christmas is such a tricky time in our home as it arrives with sugarplums, excitement, and loads of nagging. The nagging typically starts as a whisper, the day after Thanksgiving, when I suggest that maybe this is the year we can put up our tree early. The answer is always “No,” but two points for trying, right?
I don’t really understand why it matters when the tree goes up, as we don’t typically decorate it until we reach a low-level “Christmas is in three days!?!” panic. Yes, we put up our tree a few weeks before Christmas and then let it stand naked, save the lights it came with, in the living room. It’s actually quite beautiful in its very simple state.
The ornaments have always come later–a task built out of necessity and the insistence that, on this one thing, I have helpers. Because the kids were shuffling back and forth from our home to their biomom’s, the tree decorated also got shuffled later and later into the month until we could find a day that would be the least stressful to all stop, bake some cookies, and dig through ornaments collected over the years. Sure, if I just decorated the tree by myself, it would happen much earlier in the season, but I’d rather have a bare tree than miss that memory.
The thing about decorating for the holidays is that it is a giant task often taken on by only one person (typically the mom) and, while it does end in beauty, there are often several frustrating stops along the way that offer time to think, “Why am I doing this alone!?!” I mean, I know the answer, of course. I do it alone because, if help arrived, I’d micro-manage the holiday spirit right out of them. That’s not important. Moving on.
In addition to my role as a decorator, I’m also the designer of our holiday cards. I usually spend way too much time on this task, overthinking the pictures and which of my kids will be offended by the layout, wording, or color of the cards. This job always takes place the weekend after Thanksgiving, when I’m not putting up the tree, and when Shutterfly has a great sale. No, really. Mark your calendars–it really is a great sale.
In a perfect world, I would build our holiday cards in the months leading up to that sale so I could simply push the “Add to Cart” button while shoving down a spoonful of stuffing. In reality, that’s not how it typically goes.
This year, I gave up on the picture puzzle and opted for a single-picture card–a testament to the continued struggle and grief that losing two mothers in the span of one year brings. We are still trying to track down our holiday spirit while discovering that the second holiday season is actually more challenging, mentally, than the first. Still, I did manage to get our holiday card designed, discounted, and purchased. I also bought a roll of stamps, fought through an address label mail merge, and had everything ready for the day that the orange Shutterfly box arrived.
As Rich and I had planned a mid-December trip, my goal was to have those cards in the mailbox prior to our departure, with hopes of winning whatever contest it is that earns me a prize for the earliest holiday card delivery.
I mean, nothing says, “I have my life together” like a holiday card that arrives weeks before the actual holidays, right?
My husband’s only job in this holiday card marathon is to seal the envelopes. Yes, that’s it. One job. Some would even say he gets to take the hero shot. It’s a gift that I’m happy to give him, and typically, he gets a gold medal. Typically.
We had a minor faux pas this year and, yes, by “we,” I definitely mean my husband and whichever of the AI platforms he was talking to when this happened. You see, despite my perfect cards with perfectly placed stamps, perfectly printed mailing and return labels, and a short but delightful message…many of those holiday cards did not arrive as perfectly planned.
Sweet baby Jesus. Sweet little six-pound baby Jesus in his tiny, makeshift manger bed.
When I first heard from someone that our holiday card had arrived with another one stuck to it, I thought, “Oh man, that’s weird.” When I heard the same tale again from someone else and then from someone else and then, yes, from someone else, I thought, “HOW MUCH EFFING WATER DID THIS MAN USE TO SEAL THOSE ENVELOPES???”
Too much, as it turned out.
This year, we inadvertently sent out Siamese Holiday Cards. Some were noticed and, I suspect, many were not. This year, some got holiday cards from the Barlows, and some did not, though their card was mailed out with the greatest of effort.
For about thirty seconds, I debated reordering, relabeling, restamping, resealing (myself), and remailing an entire second round of holiday cards. Thankfully, I realized how crazy that sounded and, instead, just started casually asking folks if they’d seen our card before explaining why it hadn’t arrived.
It’s been a very Barlow season so far, what can I say?
My husband? He felt terrible that his envelope sealing skills had gotten away from him. He’ll do better next year, I’m sure, in whatever reassignment he is given. In the meantime, here is what you did not see in your mailbox:
I do hope you have an amazing holiday season!